Trying To Maintain

F O R T Y - E I G H T

48:

Drevon

What the fuck?

I gain consciousness slowly, hearing a steady beeping noise. My last memory is instantly in my minds' eye. I know I got shot, but how long was I out exactly? I open my eyes to see if there's anyone here with me.

I immediately find Pat sitting next to my bed with his phone in his hand. "Aye," I call out to him making him nquickly look up.

A look of relief washes over his face. "You scared the shit out of me, Drevon." He gets up, looking like he is about to hug me, but stops himself. "I almost just tackled your ass in a hug." He chuckles lightly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'ma run and get the doctor real quick."

He does as he says he would, and runs out of the room. A Black, male doctor comes in the room greeting me with beady eyes and a smile. "Welcome back, Mr. Jones. I'm Dr. Long. How are you feeling?" He asks me.

"I'm alive," I say to him. "How long was I out?"

"Not long actually. It's only been a few hours since you were rushed in by your friend here," he gestures over to Pat. "Can you lift your left arm for me?" He asks, and from there he runs a series of tests. It's to see what I can or can't do, what hurts and other shit like that.

After he ensures that everything on me is working close to normal, he explains that all of my wounds were nonfatal. Not only did the nigga's aim suck, but he also shot me with the most pussy pistol ever. He did let me know however, that had the bullet hit me just an inch below in the one in my shoulder, I would have either been dead or had one less arm.

When he's done with his checkup, he tells me that at some point detectives will be in to talk to me because the nature of incident. After that, he leaves.

Pat was in the room with me throughout the whole ordeal. Now that the doctor is gone, he is standing there looking awkward. 

"You can give me a hug, my nigga. Whatever drugs they got my ass on I can't feel shit." I laugh a little through my small lie. I can feel a very dull pain, it's not throbbing and it hurts, but it's not crippling. "Come here." I spread my arms, (honestly struggling with the left, but I refuse to let him know) to welcome him to hug me.

He smiles before bending over to hug me. His little ass making it awkward acting like he going to hurt me or something. I pull him on top of me—not like that—and squeeze him once I feel him trying to get up.

"I swear I'm good. Hug me, nigga." I laugh at his scary ass.

"You sure?" He looks me in my face to ask.

"Yes, Pat." I give him a reassuring smile. Finally he hugs me.

"You scared me for real," he mumbles in my neck.

"I ain't mean to." I find myself shrugging. "What happened though? I know I got shot, but how I end up here?"

"We was sti—"

The hospital door opens as he is about to tell me what happened, so he hops up real quick. "Boy, you done 'bout scared the shit out of me!" Granny says coming over to hug me tightly.

"I'm sorry, ma." I say with a small smile. "How you doing?"

"Better now that I see you breathing in the flesh." She pulls back and smiles at me while rubbing my cheek.

"I ain't mean to make you wor—"

I get cut off as the hospital room door opens yet again. This time it's Tim...with a carseat in his hand. His face is wet, proof that he been crying. He puts the baby down on the chair next to the bed I'm in before rushing over to me and hugging me tightly.